


All of Me

by shieldandtrenchcoat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:00:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldandtrenchcoat/pseuds/shieldandtrenchcoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha learns to not let her heart be so scarred up anymore, thanks to a war hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mighty Fall

**Author's Note:**

> So, this chapter is basically the most violent, I guess. Not really, it just kind of includes blood and everything that happened after the fall Steve took after the carrier started going down. Anyway, here's wonderwall. :3

"Blood— There’s.. So much…blood.. Do you copy?" Steve whispered into the small microphone on his wrist as he hacked and coughed up the water in his lungs, red liquid flowing from his abdomen. It was like waking up in the ice all over again— not knowing how long he'd been there, who'd put him there, what his damage was.. The only thing he really knew was that he was there, and alive. Not alive and well.. But alive. Barely. Steve tried to get his comm to work just once more-- just once, for the chance to call out to somebody. Anybody, at this point. He knew that water damage could be possible, but hell, he also knew that Stark created it.

  
Now, Stark had told him himself that smart guys always covered their asses— while that was completely true, Steve still wondered if Stark was what you'd call a smart guy. Sure he had the science skills and the laboratory toys, which was all just brain. But was someone like Tony; arrogant, stubborn and somewhat of a grouch in the mornings, always ten steps ahead? Given that his father made a car hover on stage for a good fifteen seconds in front of an entire crowd, Steve thought so.

  
He also thought so when a warm, honey-sweet voice came over the speaker that was still left in his ear. Watery, static-filled, and hard to hear. But her voice was there, hanging on to him, even if only by a thread. "Tasha—" Steve mumbled, the only word he was truly able to get out of his tired, water-lugged lips. His head lolled to the side for a moment, cradling the small speaker in his ear, as if to hold on to her, too.

  
"I copy. Tell me your coordinates." Natasha said almost obliviously into the microphone that was on her own wrist. She must have figured that everything was fine, but oh, how it wasn't. At first, since Steve was a rather logical man, he only thought that the reason that his legs were cold was because the tide crept in back and forth so easily. But when the coldness ran up his body, he knew that it hadn't been a single wave of the water he'd been dragged from making him so chilled, but the frigid fingers of death gently caressing his body, whispering in his ear, telling him to go to sleep.

  
"Nah, Nat.. You ain't gotta come.." Steve said finally into his own comm, his eyes unable to stay open any longer. He was freezing— shaking, the man was so cold— but, he didn't complain. Didn't whimper or frown, or even call Natasha near to get him out of the situation he was in. "The hell I don't have to come, Rogers. I'm tracking you as we speak." The woman's voice filtered into his ears, but all he could do was clench his jaw tightly. "Nat.. You know I lived a long, long time.."

  
But that was just it. Steve had never truly, not for one second of his young life, ever really lived. He fought in the war, yes... But he'd never kissed a girl, Peggy and Lorraine aside. He'd never kissed a girl and knew that he was going to marry that one. However.. He thought he would marry Peggy.. At one point. He'd never taken a girl out, showed her the time of her life meanwhile he was having the time of his. The son of a bitch didn't even know how to dance, and here he was, lying at death's door, ninety-five years old with two left feet. Natasha wasn't letting him die. She wouldn't let him die, even if he were one-hundred and twenty, and she was only fifty-five. But he continued to give her the spiel on death, like she had listened to him, and turned that helicopter around as soon as she told him to move on.

  
Oh, he was mistaken.

  
"Nat.. I've always been afraid of the dark. And no— those aren't my last words." he choked out, trying to hide the pain, but it was clearly evident. "I've been so afraid of the dark, Natasha.. After the fall.. After I went down under.. You have no idea what if feels like down there. You're sleepin', but.. But you're brain has never been more awake.." Steve never wanted to admit anything, let alone open up about it. But if he could tell her, if he could get out the last words that he wanted, then maybe he might die a happy man.

  
"You're under.. And you're asleep.. But eventually, your dreams wear out.." he whispered now, eyes closed. He could see the colored spots coming, popping up beneath his eyelids. He may just pass out soon. "And you're sitting there.. In the darkest room you've ever been in.. For the next seventy years of your life.." he murmured, his breath growing shaky. "I was so scared, Natasha.. For seventy years, I was terrified.. And there was nothing anyone could do.. Nothing.. I was afraid I had died, and God never came back for me."  
Steve swallowed the giant lump in his throat. "I was so scared he was going to leave me there forever.. But I woke up.. And I thought he gave me a second chance." Steve's cheeks were wet; he wasn't even aware that he'd been crying.

Soon, though, he heard the wind rush past him— far stronger than it should've been— the trees bending and swaying, the water reacting in the most absurd way. When he peeked open his eyes (well, eye— his other was swollen), he saw a blur of red hair, and a black body running toward him, like a starving animal finding food after days and says without.

  
Steve immediately recognized her, and even though he'd mentally prepared himself to meet death face to face, he grinned a bit anyway. This caused blood to gush from the wound on the side of his mouth, but he didn't care. "Rogers.. Rogers, stay with me, okay? We-We got an ambulance a-and paramedics, and a whole team to fix you up nice and spiffy, hm?" Natasha said as her body hovered over his dying one. She had been expecting an answer like "alright," or maybe even no answer at all, but as he looked up to her, black spots fighting there way through his vision, he saw the tears on her cheeks, and he shook his head. "Nah, Nat— I think God gave me another chance.."


	2. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at chapter names, but I figured that maybe I should update at least twice a week. How do Thursdays and Fridays sound, yeah? :)

Sunlight—gold like honey— filtered through the half-closed, half-opened blinds that hung to the left of his bed, slapping him right in the face, rousing him awake from his deep slumber. It was the first form of light he'd seen in a while— at least,what felt like another seventy years. He sat up immediately, but quickly realized what an awful idea that had been when he drew in a sharp, pained gasp. The memory of his fall came back to him quite soon, the feeling of every last bullet that shredded through his skin and pierced his veins making him lie himself back down. There was this beeping. Constant, annoying, absolutely redundant beeping ringing in his ears. he'd been awake for only three minutes, and that was the first thing he could hear? Steve rolled his eyes as his head hit the pillow once again, lolling to the side. 

 _"What the—?"_ He thought as the felt string on his face, embedded in his skin. Stitches, it felt like. He only wished he had a mirror to see the damage he'd done, cutting up his face—no— by letting  _Bucky_ cut up his face. Steve tried to seem annoyed at the fact that Bucky couldn't remember him, or maybe even a bit sorrowful, but truth be told, Steve felt a huge empty hole in his chest. One right smack-dab in the middle of where his heart should go. But it was wide open, gaping like free air. In a way, he loved those stitches that would soon turn to scars. Eventually they would heal and vanish from his skin, but for the time being, they were only thing that still connected him to his only friend—the man who once promised him to stay with him, through whatever the world brought on. Steve sure as hell missed his best friend. When he was under, he wished that the next time he would awake, he'd see him there, waiting for him to come from the subconscious world, and he himself again.

But clearly, that's just not what was going to happen.

Instead, however, another familiar face came into sight, and instead of being disappointed (like he'd expected), he only grinned. The red hair that matched her lips was easy to recognize, and his lips turned from a downward slant to showing his teeth in one of the biggest smiles he thought he could ever muster with tight stitches holding back his skin on his cheek. "Natasha." Steve greeted warmly, his heart blowing up like a damned balloon. After everything they'd been through, Steve figured Natasha would be happy to see him, but instead, she only peeked up over the magazine she'd been reading to give him a look, as if she knew something he didn't. "Natasha.." he said in a new voice, one hat sounded almost apologetic and sweet. He found himself sitting up, despite the pain that it brought, and biting his lip. "I—I.."

"Don't." Natasha said in a low, almost monotone voice that let him know that she wasn't exactly the happiest camper at the moment. Steve immediately shut his mouth as she closed her magazine, and tossed it on a nearby table. Steve was trying hard to remember anything he might have said to her. he knew that she was angry, he knew that she actually was hurt. Working with someone, seeing the look of nothing but truth in their eyes... it was impossible to escape, it was impossible not to see that look, no matter how far Natasha thought she through it in the ocean of her heart. it was there. He knew it. "How could you think for once second that I would leave you there on the side of that bank, Rogers?" she asked—no, demanded. Steve barely knew how to respond. "I—.." He began, but she only cut him off once again. "You said that if it came down to saving your life that you would trust me to do it. You said you trusted me.." Natasha was going off, the the fall in her voice at the end.. That was what it was.

Steve had said that he trusted her. He did. He did trust her, with everything he had. But the look in her eyes told him that maybe, just maybe she wan't as angry as she was crushed. "I do trust you." he said, and those green eyes of her looked down to the edge of his bed, like she wasn't happy to be valued. It broke his heart to know that her reaction to being loved.. To being trusted, to being deemed as "worthy" was like a child opening up gifts on Christmas. Little did she know that she'd been valued this whole time.

"Steve, you can't say that—" She began, crossing one knee over the other. "You can't say that.. because I know you don't trust me. You would have told me to come.. you would have—" Steve hushed her with the sound of his voice, so quiet and gentle even in times like these. "I didn't want you to get hurt. I.. I wanted to die, so you didn't have to put yourself in danger, Natasha. This isn't a question of if I trust you or not. This is.. This is me saying that I never want to be the reason that you get hurt."

There was silence, and Natasha pursed her lips before nodding. "Damn you for having a good answer." She grumbled, and snatched her magazine back up. "Don't you have something better to do? Like, go into hibernation or something?" This made Steve chuckle. "Shut up." he murmured, and soon, the room was silent once again before Natasha decided to put that magazine down, and hunch forward, elbows resting on her knees. "Give me your hand, Rogers."  


Steve did so.

Natasha was quiet for several minutes as she held that massive hand of his in her small one. "For as long as I can remember, Steve.. I was never someone to be.. fully trusted. Sure I was valued.. But.. Not for the good reasons, let's just say." She said, and there was a silence that fell over her body before his heart began to sank, realizing that maybe— just maybe they had something in common. Maybe.. Maybe they weren't exactly polar opposites like he always thought. "Come here?" he finally croaked out, his hand tugging on hers. At first, she didn't want to move, but when he tugged again, she gave him a look before hoping over the bed railing as swiftly and smoothly as a feline— She was incredible in almost all ways imaginable, and her body was just one of those millions and millions of ways.

The way her body stretched out beside his made him feel like he was at home.. Even if he didn't even really know what lying in bed next to a woman really felt like. All he knew was that his body was programmed to feel this way toward a woman. The right woman, that was. The woman that came along and knocked him on his ass long enough for him to look up at her and see that she was perfect as all get out. "Is this what you wanted?" She asked, her hand searching for his, and lacing their fingers together. He nodded, allowing himself to adjust to the feeling of Natasha next to him. It was something that he didn't quite know how to explain, but the feeling was there, and he knew that he didn't want it to stop. her eyes looked him up and down, her whole face swirling up into a small little grin. "Go back to sleep, grandpa." She whispered to him, biting her plump little lip. "I'll stay with you 'til you wake up again.."

"That's not what I want." He blurted out rather quickly, drawing in a deep breath that made his chest puff out and everything. "It's 2014 and I still don't know anything about New York... When I get out of this place, promise me you'll teach me. Swear it."

Another silence.

"Promise?"  
"Promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I will be posting the next chapter shortly! Please leave feedback or suggestions if you'd like :D  
> My tumblr url is rogersx-- don't be afraid to drop by and ask about fic updates and more!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I will be posting the next chapter shortly! Please leave feedback or suggestions if you'd like :D  
> My tumblr url is rogersx-- don't be afraid to drop by and ask about fic updates and more!


End file.
